The imperial stout was born through the overseas transactions between England and Russia more than two centuries ago, when extra alcohol fermented into the beer provided the anti-freeze measures needed to get the beer across the Baltic Sea without turning to slush or ice and, in doing so, bursting from their barrels.

Those first imperial stouts were probably something along the lines of what we still see from Samuel Smith’s, the English brewery that also makes a traditional “India ale.” The Sam Smith imperial stout runs 7 percent alcohol-by-volume, is toasty and rich, and smooth and creamy on the tongue. It remains a popular beer and is one of my favorites.

That classic beer also comes off as something of a dwarf in the spectrum of modern imperial stouts. There may be no other imperial stout on the market with such a modest ABV as Samuel Smith’s. Indeed, the style, along with its close cousin the imperial porter, has become a playground and laboratory for almost maniacal, evil-clownish brewing experiments that test the limits of alcohol-making yeasts and the palates of beer drinkers. Many super-stouts are aged in bourbon barrels, a once-innovative practice (that gives vanilla and coconut flavors) that has, by now, become almost standard treatment for the strongest beers. The strength of some imperial stouts and porters is unnerving. One of the strongest fermented beers (as opposed to beers enhanced via distillation) is the World Wide Stout from Dogfish Head. The beer runs 18 to 20 percent ABV most years (the yeast isn’t always in the mood to take it to the max) and is generally served and consumed with a level of caution and respect, rather like brandy.

Many breweries promote their imperial stouts as some sort of expression of evil. I get it – the beers are dark in color, and you can follow the metaphors forward from there. But it’s a little bit stupid. In Munster, Indiana, 3 Floyds Brewing Co. calls its Dark Lord Russian Style Imperial Stout “demonic,” and the bottle label depicts a terrifying and outraged beast from the underworld. This 15-percent ABV beer has drawn a dedicated cult following, on par with that of Russian River’s Pliny the Younger fanbase. I tend to believe that the majority of fanatical, almost riotous, praise for beers is rooted more in brand loyalty, mob enthusiasm and, perhaps, traces of alcoholism than in objective approval of the beer, and I think that is what is going with Dark Lord. The pitch-black brew is apparently named after the devil and it’s super strong – and there you have it. Fans clamor for tickets to the annual Dark Lord Day, where attendees listen to heavy metal music and receive several bottles of the worshipped stout at about $50 each. It would not surprise me if bottles of this imperial stout are treated by especially devout followers as a sort of pagan idol.

Avery Brewing Co., in Colorado, bills its Mephistopheles Stout with similar themes and shadows. The immensely strong beer – it has been taken as high as nearly 17 percent – is tar black, fruity and sweet, and, though flavorful, not super easy to drink. (I’ve tried it.) It is part of the brewery’s Demons of Ale series. Go figure.

In Chicago, Goose Island Brewing Co.’s Bourbon County Stout ranges as high as 15 percent ABV and, even though the brewery is now owned by the abhorred (by many craft enthusiasts) Budweiser company, people rant about this beer. It was one of the first – and quite probably the first – bourbon barrel-aged beer. Indeed, this beer started a revolution in how many beers are aged.

Track 7 in Sacramento makes a “robust porter” that sounds like a dessert in and of itself – the “Nukin’ Futz Imperial Peanut Butter Chocolate Cream Porter.” Switch around the first letters of the first two words and it characterizes the concept rather well. Stone Brewing’s W00T Stout is a marvel, too. It runs almost 12 percent ABV and is made with pecans and wheat and rye and is partially aged in bourbon barrels.

In Fairfax, brewer Christian Kazakoff of Iron Springs says the strongest beer he’s made is his Compulsory triple IPA.

“I hit 12.5 percent a couple years back,” he says.

In the realm of imperial stouts, Kazakoff says he has made a few stronger than 10 percent – “but not in years.”

Kazakoff says he enjoys wildly strong stouts – a very worthy opinion from a man who is also outspokenly fond of low-alcohol craft lagers. Recently, he says, he drank a bottle of Firestone Walker Brewing Co.’s Coconut Rye Parabola. The beer is aged in rye whiskey barrels with coconut, and he said it’s “scary drinkable delicious.”

“Thank god it was only 12 ounces,” he says.

Alastair Bland’s Through the Hopvine runs every week in Zest. Contact him at allybland79@gmail.com.